


(baby stop) you're surrounded

by alyse



Category: Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights (2004)
Genre: Dirty Dancing, Missing Scene, Multi, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/pseuds/alyse
Summary: It's growing late, and the music is too loud – it's always too loud, too present, tooCuban, but tonight it rattles in James' teeth and reverberates through his chest, rising up into his throat with a bass line so heavy that he almost chokes on it.James and Javier and Katey and dancing.
Relationships: Katey Miller/James Phelps/Javier Suarez, Katey Miller/Javier Suarez
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	(baby stop) you're surrounded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trillingstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillingstar/gifts).



> For trillingstar, who wanted _James... dancing and getting moved up alongside Javier and Katey_. I hope this suits.
> 
> Title from _Do You Only Want to Dance_ from the Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights soundtrack.

Havana is humid. Havana is always humid, sweat slicking James' forehead and sliding down his back under his button-down shirt, too tight and too stuffy. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the once cold beer bottle warming in his hand, the condensation from it pooling onto the chipped table surface.

It's growing late, and the music is too loud – it's always too loud, too present, too **Cuban** , but tonight it rattles in his teeth and reverberates through his chest, rising up into his throat with a bass line so heavy that he almost chokes on it.

Katey doesn't care. Katey doesn't care about the loudness of the music or the way the heated air presses down, heavy and suffocating. Katey doesn't care about James or his discomfort; she loves this – the music, the atmosphere, the way that the beat moves through her, the echoes of it catching and holding her as her eyes shine and her head is thrown back in laughter. She's a picture of sheer joy in the brief glimpses he catches of her, flashes of colour in the gloom of the nightclub as she spins and twirls, lost in the music and half-hidden by the crowd.

That same crowd parts for a moment and, in that brief breath between one note and the next, he catches her eye.

She smiles, slow and sure, something as sweet and heavy and **there** as the music still pounding in his head, as the scent of sweat and rum in the air, and then she is gone again, spun away in another man's arms.

James' fingers tighten on the bottle, something heavier than the bass settling in his chest.

He knows it's his own fault. His fault for treating her so cheaply, like she was something that could be bought and sold – a few drinks, a dress that clung to her body and he'd misread every fucking signal, sped up when he should have slowed the hell down. 

The knowledge of it sours in his mouth and he takes another swig of warm beer to swallow it down.

The music slows, the sound of low chatter and laughter swelling up to fill the gap, and then Katey is right there in front of him before he can catch his breath, her eyes challenging and her lips curling in a smile.

There's nothing sweet about that smile, or about the way she reaches out and curls her fingers around the bottle in his hand, pulling it free from his unresisting grasp. He watches her drink and says nothing, letting his own eyes say anything that's needed. His gaze lingers on her flushed face, on the curve of her throat as she swallows, a drop of sweat rolling down her neck and into the low collar of her dress.

And then she's gone again, the bottle rocking on the table from the speed at which she slammed it down. James reaches out automatically to still its movement, watching her go until she once again vanishes into the crowd.

When he finally drags the bottle back up to his lips, he finds that she's drained it dry. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a reluctant smile that probably holds as much humour as hers had. Of course she's drained it, taking everything he has and leaving him within nothing but an empty bottle – there's probably some symbolism in it, something to match all of those novels she loves so much. 

Not that she's done much reading recently, not as far as he can tell.

He places the empty bottle back down on the table more carefully than she had, eyes already restlessly searching the crowd for another sight of her - just a glimpse would be enough – but instead, another bottle appears in his field of vision, waggling there impatiently until he drags his gaze up to meet the eyes that are watching him.

Suarez's expression is as challenging as Katey's had been, but there's something else in there, something lurking around the corner of his mouth, in the crinkles at the corners of his eyelids. Something darker, as heated as the night air.

Suarez waggles the bottle again, one eyebrow raising and the look in his eyes growing mocking. It makes James' teeth itch, prickles running around the nape of his neck, but he's never been one to back down from a challenge.

He has no intention of starting now.

The bottle is ice cold when he finally plucks it from Suarez's grasp, the condensation once again wet against his fingertips, dripping down to leave dark spots on the fabric of his jacket as soon as he takes hold. "Suarez," he says, tipping the bottle in Suarez's direction. "Much obliged."

"Señor." There's no missing the mocking tone in Suarez's voice, even over the pounding beat of the music, not when Suarez leans in a little too close, just to make sure that James catches it. "It is the least I can do. For our _alibi_."

He raises one eyebrow again, his eyes dark pools, and James feels the heat rush through him again, pooling in his throat and down into his chest.

The corner of Suarez's – of _Javier's_ \- mouth quirks up again, and James has the sinking feeling that he's lost this round, even though he's not sure what game they're playing.

"Well." James swallows down the lump in his throat, not missing the way that Javier's gaze tracks the move. "Anything for a lady, you know that." He salutes Javier with the bottle again and Javier's eyes follow the arc of it for a moment before his gaze tracks back up James' arm to his face. His expression now is considering as he tilts his head, and James fights the urge to swallow again.

He covers it by taking another long draught from the beer in his hand, holding Javier's gaze through sheer, stubborn pride.

Javier's smile deepens. "You are hot in that jacket," he says. It doesn’t sound like a question, not even with Javier's occasional idiosyncrasy in English, and the beer sticks in James' throat, leaving him spluttering as he shoots Javier a look that speaks volumes. 

Javier's eyes are wide and innocent, but his smile is anything but, and James swallows again around the lingering breathlessness, unable to resist the urge to scrub his sleeve across his mouth and chin. He can't hold Javier's gaze this time, not when the heat that's rising to his face has nothing to do with the temperature of the air or the closeness of the club. Not when the thudding in his chest has nothing to do with the baseline of the next song, even though the echoes of it start reverberating around the room.

Javier leans closer until his lips are right next to James' ear, and his breath is even hotter. "You should take it off," he says. "Come join us, show us that the Americans are not afraid to dance." He reaches down until his fingers catch hold of James' sleeve, just above the point his pale wrist emerges, and tugs a few times to make sure that his meaning is understood. "After all…" He leans in closer still, until James can feel the heat rising from Javier's body, and catch the taste of Javier's fresh sweat in the air at the back of his throat. "You cannot come to _La Rose Negra_ and not dance." 

"Is it against the law?"

Javier's teeth flash delightedly in the low light as he finally eases his grip on the fabric of James' sleeve, letting his fingers slide slowly over the skin of James' wrist where James' pulse beats, fast and furious, before he pulls away entirely. "If not, it should be."

It's another challenge, another game that James is going to lose because he doesn't understand the rules, but he'll be damned if he'll let Suarez win without putting up a fight.

He rises to his feet, steady in spite of the beer he's consumed – and he'll also be damned if Javier ever gets to figure out what that costs him – as he finally shrugs off his jacket, letting it slip down his arms and leaving it carelessly draped over the back of his chair, one of the sleeves inside out, which is probably another one of the metaphor things that Katey loves so much.

The whole time he holds Javier's gaze, watching as a grin blossoms over Javier's face, something lighter in it now, something close to… pleased.

He doesn't resist when Javier reaches out again, grabbing hold of James' wrist this time, his fingers curling around and pressing into James' pulse point as he spins on his heel and starts tugging James towards the dance floor. 

If he notices the way that James' heartbeat spikes at the contact, he doesn't let it show.

Katey is waiting for them near the edge of the crowd, her face shadowed and her eyes hooded in the dim club light. But her smile isn't hidden, and it's not a smile he's used to seeing on her face. It's not the shy one she shows his friends, or the small delighted one when she'd seen the dancers the first time he'd brought her here. It's not even the wider one she saves for Javier. This one is small, yes, but there's something secretive about it as it plays over her lips. Secretive and satisfied.

She catches Javier's gaze and something passes between them, something James can't read, and that smile of hers widens slightly, her teeth flashing for a moment, as bright as Javier's, before she turns and plunges back into the crowd.

Javier follows her and – with Javier's fingers still wrapped around his wrist – so does James.

It's even hotter surrounded by bodies, and James is already gasping for breath by the time that Javier stops so suddenly in front of him that James has to swerve to avoid running into him. Their hips still bump together and Javier shoots him a look, one that's nowhere near as irritated as James expected. But then Javier's attention is dragged away from him again, back to Katey, and, when James turns his head towards her himself, it's not difficult to see why.

Katey is a revelation. She's liquid, red and gold, as the music washes over her, her arms, her hips swaying with the beat. Small tendrils of hair cling to the edges of her face, dampened with sweat, and her smile… Her smile is luminous, bright and dark and everything in between.

Sweat slicks her body as well, beads of perspiration glistening on her freckled shoulders, darkening the edges of a dress that's been painted onto her. James watches, dry-mouthed, as one of those beads of perspiration breaks away to roll down the arch of her neck and the sweet swell of her breast.

He wants to taste it, trace the path of it with his tongue. His head is spinning with the thought of it as the bass line starts to thrum through his chest again.

Javier's hip knocks against his again, deliberate this time. When James tears his eyes away from Katey, meets Javier's gaze again, there's something dark in Javier's expression, and Javier's eyes are glittering, catching the light.

Javier holds his gaze as he backs towards Katey, hips already swaying with the rhythm. He smiles sinfully, and James swallows again, feeling the ache of it at the back of his throat.

He can't tear his eyes away as they come together again, Javier and Katey, Katey and Javier. There's an ease to the way in which they move together, an ease that James lacks. It's not just the heat of it, or the way the music moves through them. It's in how they move around each other, sliding in and out of each other's space as if they share a single thought, a single breath.

They're beautiful together, and that's another thought that catches in the back of James' throat, sitting there until he can barely breathe around it.

Javier's fingers skim over Katey's hip as he slides behind her, and Katey sways towards him, eyes tracking Javier's movements and her lips parted, bee-stung and just begging to be kissed. But James has learnt that lesson, at least; instead of stepping in, he stays back, watching her.

Javier is watching him. His eyes are dark over Katey's shoulders, sweat dampening his hair until it curls around his face, and Javier is _smiling_ , something sweet and something sinful, and then Javier finally twists away, caught in another swell of the rhythm washing across the floor, and James can finally **breathe**.

It doesn't help; he feels awkward, out of place and out of step with the two of them, lacking their grace and lacking their _fire_. Challenge or not, he's half-way to giving into the inevitable and admitting defeat before he feels a hot, hard presence behind him.

"Americans." Javier huffs a laugh in his ear, his breath once again stirring the small hairs on the back of James' neck, and James can barely suppress the shiver that brushes through him. "Always so stiff, always so _rigid_."

There's a joke in there – James knows there's a joke in there, something too dark and filthy and close to the bones for Katey's ears, and too close for comfort for his – but before he can make it, Javier's hands settle on his hips, warm and heavy.

"Here," Javier says, and it sounds like a purr as he presses, shifting James' body weight with practiced ease.

James stumbles, but Javier is there to catch him, Javier's laughter ghosting against his skin. "Americans," Javier says again, but this time the mockery is softened by something that sounds too close to affection, sending shivers through James' frame again.

He can't hide it this time, and Javier's fingers tighten for a second, a moment of stillness before he steps even closer, until there's barely a hairsbreadth between his body and James'.

Katey's eyes are bright when James looks up, and her smile is crooked. He watches as her tongue darts out and licks at those sweet, sultry lips and then she steps closer, her hands already lifting towards him. Her fingers settle lightly against his chest, the touch barely there, and then slide slowly up, over his shoulders, until her palms settle, firm and sure against the back of his neck.

"Like this," Javier murmurs, the hands on James' hips moving with the tempo as Javier's body sways behind him and Katey smiles up at him, bright and dark and _beautiful_.

James breathes in, and finally lets the music move him.


End file.
